


Stained with Chrysanthemums and Petunias

by Hayloft (Auriel)



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Brief suicidal ideation, Depressed TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, I dumped all my mental illness on him woo!, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, References to Depression, This is a letter written from Tommy's perspective so everyone in this is just technically mentioned, and, ask to tag, nothing graphic but the incidents are mentioned, possibly ooc tommyinnit, touch-averse tommyinnit, touch-starved tommyinnit, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28692267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auriel/pseuds/Hayloft
Summary: "And the worst part is, I loved youI loved you, I loved you, it's trueAnd sometimes I feel like I still fucking do" - Rät by Penelope Scott------A letter to Wilbur, written from Tommy's perspective.
Relationships: Tubbo & Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 2
Kudos: 69





	Stained with Chrysanthemums and Petunias

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by "Letter To A Dead Man" by Antarctic_empire_technoblade because I saw their work and went "Hey, you could make a vent fic out of this!" and so I did. I didn't feel comfortable directly linking this one to the work though since it is... yknow... a vent fic lmao. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!

Dear Wilbur,

Or should I just refer to you as Alivebur, hah? Either way it doesn’t matter. This letter will never get to you, or at least, the you it’s _supposed_ to. Ghostbur, maybe. Hopefully not. But he’s not really you, as shown by the whole “Ghostbur” and “Alivebur” nonsense. I think it’s just making his denial problems worse.

You hurt me. No matter what, that’s true. It's a fact. And the thing is, even if you don’t want to believe it, or you don’t think you _really_ hurt me, one thing I’ve come to terms with is that I can’t control others feelings. And they can’t dictate mine. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be angry. I’m absolutely furious at times, it feels like it could quite literally burst out of me. In my daydreams it releases in a crash of uncontrollable power, you know like in those movies where the main character loses control of their powers? But there’s never anyone to come stop me. No one to comfort me. And I still hate that I won’t ever get closure for this.

I think that’s another big thing. It’s taken me awhile, and a lot of joking to cope with, but I’m touch starved. I’m both touch averse and touch starved. I never got quite enough affection growing up, after a certain age it just… _stopped_. I didn’t really realize how this affected me, to where the only touch I’d get to experience was short and neutral or was painful. It really hit when I was around 14? Maybe?... you remember that when I still wear my short sleeves, I always have long sleeves underneath? I mean, you might _not_ have noticed since you had just met back up with me and it was right before the War for L’Manburg and all. But the point is, I took that up because I realized something then.

I was walking through the village nearby, like usual, nothing really happening. But then the bell rang, and tons of villagers were rushing by. I felt multiple of them brush up against my bare skin, and I nearly wretched. It felt unnatural, uncomfortable, and I hated it. This certainly wasn’t helped by… certain people… that are irrelevant. You’ve never met them before, and I hope you never do. They mean well, but…

nevermind

But anyway, ever since that event i’ve always steered clear of stuff like that and wore long sleeves. I still want to wretch sometimes when people touch my back, it’s sometimes like there’s something that’s not _there_ that should be. ~~It m~~ … oh. It makes me feel vulnerable. huh. But yea, it stayed like that for awhile, things only really changed when i met Tubbo.

And I mean, he’s been a friend for years now, but it’s not until recently that things started to actually get… _yea_. It started off with him literally just giving me hugs when he saw me and when he left, never stopping. It always caught me off guard, and for the first few months I never even hugged him back. And then I did. And now his hugs are one of my favourite things in the world. They make me feel safe, protected, loved, and have just the right amount of weight to be comfortable. He was the one who really taught me how to start expressing physical affection. Before him, I can’t even remember the last time I held someone’s hand of my own free will.

But you also showed me affection. And that’s the issue. You were the only other person in my entire life to show me it. And because, once you finally break down my walls, I’m a people-pleaser, I did everything I could to keep you happy. I bent over backwards to show you I care, and I was burning the match at both ends of the stick. And it never seemed to work.

What’s worse I think is that this isn’t being _nearly_ as therapeutic as I hoped. Because I’m quite literally rehashing the same words and phrases I’ve repeated to myself and written out for the past year. I wish I could just get angry and scribble on these pages words of hate and anger-filled trauma. But that’s not how I am right now I guess.

And I hate that I loved you, I truly, truly did. And I hate that sometimes I feel like I still fucking do. It’s going to be forever burned into my brain, and I hate it and love it so much. We had some genuinely good times together, before things went downhill. Before exile. Before Schlatt. Tubbo’s the only good thing that’s come out of all of this. ~~(I say as I’m writing this from the fucking basement of Technoblades fucking house)~~ Oh well.

Sometimes I feel like you, I think. I don’t know, I’d ask Ghostbur but he doesn’t remember. And all I want to do is run around and cause chaos. I want to burn down New L’Manburg, Logstedshire, and the rest of this SMP connected to them. I want to burn my bridges, light them up with gasoline and a flame spit right from my mouth. I want to watch them hurt and I want them to be shocked, staring at who I’ve become. I want to look Phil in the eyes and say with a grin “This is your son, aren’t you _proud_? Don’t you like what I’ve become?”

There’s other times where all I can do is sit here and wish for all my old relationships back, to mend them and fix them. But that’s not happening, and it never will. There’s times where all I can feel is numbness, fatigue, as I’m weighed down by my depression. All I want to do on those days is curl up and do something easy on autopilot. Sometimes I think I should have thrown myself into that lava, off that tower I built. I always back out of those thoughts now though, cause I still have… someone to live for I think. Myself, at the very least. Lastly, there’s days where all I can do is try my best to not let anxiety overtake me. I flinch, I shake when things remind me of you, Dream, and the other events that have happened. If Techno even so much as raises his voice when he’s speaking to Phil I start to shake. All I can think is “fight or flight”. Those days are the worst.

It’s getting late, Techno went to bed long ago, I should head out too.

From,  
~~Achilles~~ ~~Theseus~~  
Tommy


End file.
